Double Disillusion
by fight-grl
Summary: Bryn realises that there is more to her uncle Gandalf than meets the eye. Being in Middle Earth she is forced to make decisions that could change the fate of two worlds. And will her strained relationship with the elf come together when it matters most?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Is this really necessary? I suppose it must be done. I don't own Lord of the Rings blah blah blah.... Genius Tolkien does....yada yada yada. Right then. That done, shall we proceed?  
  
NOTE - I know that my story line and approach are not original, but what is these days? Everything is derived from something else. I have read a lot of LOTR fics, as I'm sure most of you have and I have come to enjoy the run of the mill girl-goes-to-middle-earth-and-gets-it-together-with-Leggy stories. So I have taken it upon myself to write one for myself. If you don't like them, I suggest you exit now. I know what I have created and have enjoyed it so far. If you don't, I don't take responsibility for it. I have warned you.  
  
Keep note though, that this is my idea of a bit of harmless fun, and not my intention to delve into Middle-Earthen detail of the finicky kind. So sit back and enjoy the ride.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1.  
  
For most of my childhood all I ever wanted to be was a warrior princess. I didn't care much for being the ruler of any sort of kingdom or city. I just wanted to wear sexy boots and go gallivanting around kicking some serious ass. That was why at the age of six I took up martial arts. Well actually, first came ballet, but that was a short and slightly gruesome journey, where my dad, who has raised me my whole life, was broken the news that I have the coordination of a great dancer but the grace of an elephant. Not exactly a prima ballerina kind of combination.  
  
My aggressive athleticism and spirit for competition was perfectly suited to the art of combat. Karate, boxing, kick boxing, ninjutsu, kendo and taekwondo; I did them all, but taekwondo was the one that I excelled at with its requirements of speed, strength and agility. Taekwondo was done without shoes, so I didn't get to wear the sexy boots, but I did get to kick some ass. So I settled into a nice life of training hard and partying hard. At my current age of nineteen I had never lost a fight.   
  
I doubt that if my mother had stuck around, I would have been allowed to fight. I don't remember much about her but I don't think she was the kind of woman who condoned females doing aggressive, male dominated sports. I was far too young, but what I do remember is that she moved with incredible grace and elegance, had piercing blue eyes, porcelain skin, blonde hair, fine bones and had a soft but none the less commanding voice, which I used to fall asleep to the sound of. My dip into the gene pool went horribly wrong. I didn't look much like my mother at all.  
  
I ended up with my father's deep tropical tan, black hair and athletic, well muscled body, defined by hours spent at the gym or in training. The only thing I inherited from my mother was her blue eyes, which were a striking but odd contrast to my darker colouring. Standing at five foot six, I was a sight indeed.  
  
It was one Saturday afternoon, after a competition, when my seemingly structured and ordinary life decided to go topsy turvy and throw me a curve ball, and I have never been one for ball games.   
  
Arriving home sore and tired, I dumped my bags in the hall determined to collapse into a hot bath and spend the night pruning myself up, but was interrupted by my fathers deep voice beckoning from down the hall.  
  
"Bryn" he barked "could you join me in the kitchen please?" Oh god. What will it be this time?  
  
Dad had always been a great father, but had a tendency for unnecessary interventions due to his hobby of reading teen parenting manuals and watching too many T.V. talk shows. He was usually over zealous about 'common teen issues', but at least I knew that he cared.  
  
"Dad" I began as I made my way towards the kitchen "If this is gunna' be another one of those sex talks you like to have just stop now. I'm 19 and...." I stopped mid sentence as I noticed my father was not alone. Another person was in the room with him. My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as I stood in front of the two men who sat at the small dining table, giggling at my expense. The visitor stroked his beard as he regarded me thoughtfully.  
  
He turned to dad "I see her mouth still gets her into trouble" he said, mixing his words with a deep chuckle.  
  
I folded my arms over my chest and narrowed my eyes. Uncle Gandalf could never help himself. He always had to say something about her 'abrasive temperament' as he called it.   
  
"Another win I see" He said indicating the large gold trophy I had deposited on the floor at my side. "Very impressive trophy I must say"  
  
"Yeah, but they're all useless, unless you decide to use them as shirikin that is"  
  
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion "Shirikin?"  
  
"You know, Uncle Gandy. Throwing weapons," I replied with a lop sided smile, while making a throwing action with my wrist. " I've got a whole room full of the blasted things just waiting to be thrown if you're ever in the mood for some mindless violence"  
  
Gandalf frowned. He hadn't been to earth for quite a few years now, since before the war of the ring. Now that that had just finished a little over a year ago, he saw the opportunity, but had forgotten how different Earth culture was. Especially in its modern generation.   
  
"I'll never understand you young ones." He shook his head smugly.  
  
"You're showing your age old man." I smirked.  
  
"And you yours, young Bryn"  
  
With that, Gandalf and I commenced a small staring match which lasted a few seconds, before he rose from his seat and held his arms wide apart.  
  
"Well?" He asked, grinning madly "Aren't you going to give your old Uncle Gandy a hug."  
  
I smiled as I embraced the man warmly. At full height he towered over my five six frame and it was an effort to get my arms around him.   
  
"Where have you been these past years?" I asked my voice muffled by his brown jacket.  
  
"All in good time young one." He chuckled again " Right now I have more pressing matters to discuss with you"  
  
"More pressing matters?" I questioned. This didn't sound good. Gandalf resumed his seat at the table, and I moved to sit in the chair across from him. Dad, who had been sitting quietly watching the small reunion, shuffled his chair in closer to the table. We all sat looking at each other, me with an expectant look on my face. "Has someone died?" I questioned, quirking an eyebrow.  
  
"No dear" dad cut in "just listen to what Gandalf has to say"  
  
I looked towards Gandalf, confused. He took a moment to compose his thoughts before meeting my eyes. "Well" he said "I have a..... Proposition for you if you will."  
  
"Okey dokey. Hit me old man" I said resting my feet on the tabletop. "I'm listening"  
  
Gandalf cleared his throat, slightly taken aback by my earthly colloquialisms and unladylike actions. "I know that you are not due to start university for another three months and do not have a job because of your commitment to your training. So I have arranged for you to come and spend this time with me."  
  
"Three months? Are you friggin nuts?" I darted my eyes between both of the men sitting before me to try and gage how serious he was. Neither face showed the slightest bit of humour and it made me nervous. "What about training? I have the national titles in six months."  
  
"Forget the nationals," my father snapped, "I want you to go with Gandalf. There are things about this family that you should know"  
  
"What are you talking about? Is this a joke?" I had never seen dad act this way before. His dark eyes were scared and pleading at the same time. He was usually very strong and composed, yet the look on his face transformed him into a different person. He looked somehow older, like he had aged years in a matter of seconds. "But dad, you know how important my sport is to me. How important fighting is to me." It was my turn to look pleading. "If I don't make nationals, I won't make the international team and that means no Olympics."  
  
"Look, Bryn" He sighed and closed his eyes. "I'll cut you a deal. If you go with uncle Gandalf for a minimum of one month, then you can decide what to do with the rest of your time. If by then you want to come home, it's your call. Okay?"  
  
"I will make sure you get your training young Bryn" Gandalf added firmly "I happen to know some of the best fighters in all of Midd..... Earth."   
  
I was still wary. What was the point of all of this? Why was it so important for me to go? Despite my questions I had to give in. How could I refuse when my father looked that pleading? I could still train. Gandalf had promised it and there had to be a gym where we were going. There is one on every corner here in Sydney. It could be an adventure. You know how much you like those.  
  
"Okay. I give. I'll go with uncle Gandalf. But I can come home whenever I want right?"  
  
"Right. After a month has passed of course." Gandalf smiled warmly and dad looked relieved at my decision "Good, good. We are all set then. We leave tomorrow."  
  
"We WHAT?" I nearly choked on my own tongue Why the urgency? "That's a bit soon don't you think?"  
  
"Time waits for no-one young Bryn. I suggest you go and pack." Gandalf lectured as he pointed up the staircase towards my room.  
  
Heading up the stairs, it occurred to me that I had failed to ask a vital question. I stopped on the landing and looked down to the old, bearded man at the table "Hey, uncle Gandy" He looked up, eyes wide. "Where is it that were going exactly?"  
  
"All things will reveal themselves in due course. Have patience young one."  
  
"You know Gandy," I said, the sarcasm leaking back into my voice. "Sometimes you scare me. You are starting to sound more and more like Mr. Miagi from the Karate Kid" I finished as my voice disappeared into my room.  
  
In the morning I dressed myself in the most comfortable travel gear I owned. I slipped into a pair of low slung, hip hugging jeans that flared at the bottom. They had a tare in the right knee, and a prominent grease stain from a dirt biking incident down the left leg. It all just added to the street-wise charm they gave off. I topped it off with a khaki green tank top and a pair of worn combat boots that trailed three buckles up each leg. The rest of my essential items I loaded into a trekking pack I had stolen from an old 'friend'. I met him when I took up canyoning a few years ago. He was kind enough to lend me one of his packs and a fondling hand on the rougher terrain. He also referred to me as cup cake and used to tuck his fingers into the belt of my pants when no one was looking. I soon put him right, and came out of it with a lot of nice camping gear too.  
  
It is important to have at least one decent travel pack. A truly independent woman ought to be able to pack up her life in an hour, tops. Besides, when you look as athletic I did no one offered to carry your luggage.  
  
I packed the essentials; passport, undies, shoes, spare clothes, favourite forms of entertainment, training gear and weapons. The passport could be slipped easily into a pocket and the spare clothes, entertainment extras and other items could be stuffed into any other available compartment. It was my extensive array of training gear that needed the main compartment all to itself. Running shoes and weaponry need their space.   
  
Finished packing I motioned towards the door, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I stopped and observed the young woman staring back at me. Her almond shaped eyes, bordered by dark lashes looked back void of any emotion. Her full lips remained unsmiling. It had been a long time since I looked at myself in the mirror properly. I had always been too busy with training or going to parties to take much notice. The hours of dedicated training showed the results in the mirror. My broad shoulders were finely sculpted; as were my legs and my belly was flat and firm. Must be all that running. I thought, shrugging as I headed downstairs.  
  
Gandalf was again sitting at the same place at the table, wearing the same old-fashioned brown suit, reading the paper. It was as though he had not moved at all from the night before. He smiled as he saw me, and then frowned as he looked down at my single bag. "Is that all you are taking dear?"  
  
I glanced down at the tattered bag in question. It's not that small. " I travel light" I retorted "A hot shower and a clean pair of undies and I'm good to go."   
  
Trekking packs are like magic. They look deceivingly small, however, they packed a lot of gear. The tricky thing was getting it all back in after you disturbed the tightly packed arrangement. It was like trying to do a Mary Poppins in reverse. "I have everything I need."   
  
"Right, right. Good good. We'll be off as soon as we finish breakfast." Bringing his coffee mug to his mouth, he abruptly halted mid sip. "That reminds me," he said, "I suggest you eat a hearty breakfast. It may be the only proper meal you receive for the next few days. What I have to offer while we travel may not satisfy judging by what you are used to."   
  
Not wanting to be left without food, I stuffed a load of protein bars and other favourite treats into various pockets and sections of my pack. I had no idea where I was going or what I was in for, but I knew, somehow that it was going to be of great significance. Neither Dad nor uncle Gandalf would dare put my dreams of sporting glory on hold for anything else. At least that is what I was telling myself.   
  
Breakfast over, I said my goodbyes and dumped my bag in the back of Gandalf's green station wagon.   
  
"Why does it not surprise me that you drive a Volvo?" I asked sarcastically, leaning my hand on my jutted hip.  
  
"Why do you say that my dear?" He looked slightly confused. He obviously wasn't aware of the stigma against Volvo drivers. They were categorized as quirky conservative kind of people who were a little too moldy around the edges and a little too light on the accelerator.   
  
"I dunno Gandy my man. You just look like a Volvo kinda guy."  
  
Not game to question the matter further, he took his seat behind the wheel and we were soon driving out of town. An hour or so into the journey Gandalf started to softly hum a melodious tune. It sounded nothing like I had ever heard before. It was kind of foreign and old-fashion. He began singing louder, this time adding words, however it was in a language that I did not understand. It had a flowing lilt to it that made it sound just as melodious as the tune itself. My eyes began relaxing and I could feel my body begin to go limp. The last thing I saw was Gandalf's cheerful smile as I gave into unconsciousness.  
  
It was a while before I woke up. Groaning, I willed the throbbing in the back of my skull to dissipate, but to no avail. I felt groggy, like I had just woken from spending a night out on the town, and had gone a few rounds too many with my old friend tequila. I still had nightmares from the last time I did that.  
  
My eyes still closed, I listened for the smooth hum of the engine of Gandalf's station wagon, but it wasn't there. It had been replaced by the soft chirping of distant birds, and the harsh crunching of wheels on a pot holed, dirt road. There was also a slight breeze, which sent a shiver down my spine causing goose bumps to form on my exposed arms. Hold on a sec. Since when did Gandy have a convertible?  
  
I sprang up from my sprawled position like a shot, eyes wide and frantic. I was no longer in a car, but a small horse drawn wagon, crudely put together out of untreated timber. The tar and ash felt of the Sydney suburbs was gone, in its place a large forest with lush green trees and fields stood, stretching for miles across mountain tops and disappearing into the distance. The landscape was nothing like I would have expected to see in the Australian bush. Australian vegetation was rough, creating an array of grays, dark greens, reds, browns and blues. It was designed to survive a harsh environment. The only place you would find anything different was north, in the tropics, or further south. The trees that stood before me were lush and could almost be described as delicate in appearance. They were like nothing I knew. Where the hell am I?  
  
"Nice to have you back in the world of the living" I jumped at the sudden interruption to my thoughts. It was Gandalf. He was perched at the front of the wagon, reigns in hand, puffing on a pipe which he clutched between his teeth in the side of his mouth. He wore a long white cloak and a large pointy hat was perched on his head of smooth, white hair. I groaned again as I struggled to a standing position and moved to join Gandalf in the front seat.  
  
"Whoa. Gandy. What's with the cart and pointy hat get-up? Have you joined a cult?" I jested, plonking myself ungracefully at his side while clutching my aching head.   
  
"I see that you still managed to retain your sense of humour despite your current condition."  
  
"You're getting awfully snappy in your old age. I feel like I've got a major hangover and I think there is a re-enactment of World War Two going on in my head"   
  
He started laughing, and it seemed to be at my expense.   
  
"Ah. A magic hangover." He mumbled to himself absent-mindedly. "Long time since I have experienced one of those."  
  
"One question. What happened to the car? Better yet, WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE?" I shouted, once again glancing around at the unfamiliar terrain.  
  
"Bite your tongue." Gandalf snapped, glaring at me from under bushy eyebrows. "I don't think your father raised his daughter to have the mouth of a sailor, or the mannerisms of one at that. I am most certain that it will be terribly unappreciated where we are going."  
  
"And where the hell are we going? I'm sick of this cloak and dagger shit. I want some answers."   
  
I no longer cared for the old man's philosophical maneuverings, or his opinion of my choice of vocabulary. I had hauled my ass out of my home, away from my family, routines and commitments to go on a three month 'sabbatical' I knew nothing about and he expected me to sit there and shut up. I don't think so pops. I had had enough. The reading on my weird-shit-o-meter had just gone into overdrive.  
  
"So.... Are you going to answer my bloody questions or not old man?" I folded my arms and narrowed my eyes at him defiantly.  
  
"We are not far out of Rivendell actually."   
  
"Where?"  
  
"Rivendell"  
  
"And where on earth is that." My confusion was evident on my face. I had never been very good at geography, but Rivendell was a place that I had never heard of at all.  
  
"I think the most appropriate question would be 'Where on Middle Earth is that?'" He plucked his pipe from its position, dangling out of his mouth, and gave me a sly smile I didn't all together like.  
  
"Excuse me?" I could feel my heart thumping in my chest and a cold sweat break out in my hands. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"  
  
"Calm yourself girl. We are just simply..." He paused thoughtfully "In another dimension is all."  
  
"You are a senile old bugger aren't you? I always knew you were a bit shifty."  
  
"I am most certainly not shifty!" He retorted hotly.  
  
"But you agree to the senile bit right?"  
  
At this point the friendly old man I always knew as uncle Gandy diminished as a more frightening version of his personality emerged. A dark cloud seemed to swell around his cloaked form as his patience for my stubborn antics grew thin. The only other time I had seen him half as angry was when he joined us for Christmas dinner one year, when I was ten years old. He was picking peas and turkey out of his beard for weeks after my ambush on my potato fort.  
  
"Believe what you will girl. But you will soon come to a rude awakening. The Elves may not be as tolerant of your ferocious attitude as I have been."  
  
"Elves!?" He glared at me out of the corner of his eye. "Okay, okay. I'm shutting up now." I held my hands up in surrender and sat back against the small wooden seat.  
  
"Now is not the time for questions, Bryn. I am going to explain something very important to you, and you must listen. For everyone's sake, not just your own." He peeked out of the corner of his eye to make sure I was still listening. I had my arms crossed defensively and a sour expression plastered on my face. He was talking to me as though I was a small child. "You are in another world now Bryn. This is not a game. The beings you encounter here are very real, and I expect you to offer them the same courtesy they will no doubt bestow upon you. That means no gutter trash swearing, no excessive... lip, and definitely no defensive actions."  
  
I sat forward again abruptly "What do you mean defensive actions?"  
  
"I know you girl. You are tighter than Fort Knox. You hide yourself and your personal life like it is a national secret and when anyone even tries to get to know you, you try and stomp them down with your quick mouth and those large offensive boots of yours."   
  
I looked down at my combat boots, then back to Gandalf. Maybe he was right about me being defensive. But what did it matter. It was a part of who I was. It was a form of emotional protection which was completely necessary in the streets of the modern world. In general people were selfish and only out for their own gains, despite the cost to others. I was not going to let myself be a victim of emotional sabotage. Besides, the attitude worked on me.  
  
"What's your point?" was my monotone reply. "And my boots are not offensive!"  
  
"It is important that you in no way advertise yourself as being from another world. That could prove disastrous for everyone. That involves blending in to elven society by acting like a lady. You saw 'Pride and Prejudice' didn't you?"  
  
"You mean you want me to prance around like some Victorian age bimbo and faint at the drop of a hat?" This did not please me one bit. "Would you like me to do anything else while I'm at it. Jump through fiery hoops, a little tap dancing perhaps?"  
  
"No. I'm sure acting like a lady will prove sufficient. No need to turn it into a three ring circus."   
  
"And why the secrecy?"  
  
"That is unimportant for now. The information will be disclosed selectively at my discretion. So don't get any bright ideas. Here " he said, tossing me a bundle of clothing that he plucked from behind him "Change into these. We can't have you running around looking like an other worldly hoodlum now can we?"  
  
With that final note he turned back to the road, puffing contentedly on his small wooden pipe, while I changed into the strange new clothes in the back of the wagon. They had a slightly medieval feel to them, which I didn't like. I mean I was grunge, but not that grunge. And how was I supposed to fight in a dress?   
  
Ever since I started going to nightclubs in my late teens, I had developed a paranoia about wearing clothes that I was able to defend myself in. A product of how much martial arts had taken over my life. While all the other girls wore their trashy party-girl outfits and stumbled around drunkenly in their six-inch stilettos, I was wearing loose jeans and running shoes while sipping caffinated beverages. It was not often that I let loose and had anything alcoholic. I don't think the caffeine really helped. After four or five glasses of the stuff, I was itching for a fight and usually ended up taking the initiative of staring one myself. They usually progressed to complete bar room brawls and then sometimes to full pitched battles, which extended onto the dance floor.   
  
Gandalf seemed happy enough with the arrangements. I was still skeptical about the whole concept of 'another world'. As soon as we came across a pay phone I had every intention of calling my father up to come and retrieve me from the hell I was in, and while I was at it, maybe book uncle Gandalf in for some heavy therapy sessions.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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	2. Chapter2

Disclaimer; I don't own LOTR or any of its components.   
  
Welcome to chapter two!! I know that my chapters are long, but I personally hate reading stories where chapters are short and posted sporadically. This is the way I like to read them. This chapter further establishes Bryn in Middle Earth, and if you would like to see Bryn do anything, or experience something in particular, drop a review and I may be able to incorporate it in later. For now, Enjoy!   
  
Chapter 2.  
  
We had been riding in the small wagon for what seemed like hours now and there was still no sign of any form of civilization, and worst of all, no emergency payphone that I could use to call backup. In fact, the forest seemed to be getting thicker and the road narrower as we traveled. Little conversation had been exchanged in the past few hours and quite frankly, I was getting bored. My bum had gone numb on the rigid wood, and knowing my luck, would be spending hours plucking wood splinters out from it for the next few weeks.  
  
Gandalf still held the same perky smile on his face and hummed various tunes to himself, which started to grate on my nerves. If he was going to go insane, he could at least have the courtesy to do it quietly. To drown out his endless humming I retrieved my walkman from my pack, which had managed to bounce from one side of the wagon to the other during the transports onslaughts on the deep pot holes and natural speed bumps.  
  
Shoving the headphones into my ears, I flicked on the radio, intent on soothing myself with some familiar heavy rock tunes but my ears were only met with the harsh sound of static. I held the small device above my head and waved it around a few times in different directions to try and pick up some reception, but there was still nothing. I tried adjusting the tuning. Still static. I tried every station I knew of. Still nothing. I flicked the radio off and sat there, the headphones still dangling from my ears. This was bad news. If I couldn't pick up any reception I knew that we were further from civilization than I first thought. It was then that a wave of panic and a feeling of helplessness washed over me, but I stayed silent and unmoving, consumed by my own thoughts and irrational plans of rescuing myself from the situation.  
  
I was pulled out of my wallowing by the sudden halt of the wagon. "Whoa" Gandlaf cried pulling hard on the reigns. I glanced around quickly wondering why we had stopped. I could see no settlements of any kind, or anything else for that matter, besides the usual mass of trees which lined the small road. The smile had disappeared from uncle Gandalf's face and he was squinting at a spot in the distance through the forest.  
  
"Why have we stopped?" I asked, my voice shaky with uncertainty. I raised my voice. "What the hell is going on?"  
  
"Quiet girl" he whispered harshly "We have been spotted."  
  
"Spotted? By what? There's bloody nothing out here!?"  
  
"Just shut up. Prepare yourself for battle." Gandalf leapt from the wagon and clasped a large wooden staff, which he wielded like a weapon, in position ready for attack. I still sat, stock still, confused and in a slight state of panic. I had no idea what he was on about. Attack? I scanned the trees expecting to see something like a group of leather-clad bikies ready to free wheel us off the road like a scene from Mad Max. Instead my eyes met a small group of five ugly looking beings. I had no idea what they were. Their skin was a mottled brown with the consistency of dried peat. Their faces were horribly deformed and their mouths displayed uneven lines of discoloured rotting teeth. One pointed a gnarled finger towards us, bringing the attention of the others towards where Gandalf and I waited on the road. They started to advance. I started to panic.  
  
"Move Bryn." Gandalf shouted, never taking his eyes off of the advancing mob. "Get down here and help."  
  
I jumped over the side of the wagon just as an arrow hit the side of the cart making a loud 'twang' noise as it pierced the wood.  
  
"These guys are friggin NUTS!" I exclaimed as the group let more arrows fly. It was just lucky that they didn't have very good aim. It was then that the seriousness of the situation dawned on me. It didn't matter what they were or why they happened to be out here, armed, with bows and arrows none-the-less. How archaic. Didn't these guys know what guns were?   
  
I just had to survive. My training instincts began to kick in, and I lowered myself into a fighting stance with my hands up to protect my face and most of my weight distributed on my back leg. My weapons were still packed away in my bag so I had no choice but to go free hand. I didn't mind much as it was my best style. I had been trained in weapons fighting, but it was not something I had ever been considered brilliant at. Hand-to-hand combat on the other hand, I was a master.  
  
Two advanced on me at once, swords slashing and teeth bared in identical snarls. I dodged their swords easily, surprising myself with my own speed and agility and maneuvered my body so that I only had to fight one at a time. It is one of the first tricks you are taught when learning to fight multiple opponents. I ducked another attack and slid in close to the creature's foul body, rendering his weapon useless at close range, and began launching an attack with my fists. His body jerked with the impacts and I could feel that I was beginning to tear skin from my knuckles with my efforts. Time to change tactics.  
  
As the second creature advanced on my rear, I whirled around swiftly and executed a back kick into his ribs. I watched in horror and fascination as his body went air borne, flying seven or so meters before hitting a tree with a sickening crack. My kicks had never been THAT strong. Turning back to my first opponent, still a little dazed yet adrenaline pumped, I checked on Gandalf out of the corner of my eye. He had been fending off three of the beasts while I only had two. He had felled two already with his large staff and was battling fiercely with the remaining one. My attention was brought back to my own battle just in time to see the pointy end of a large, dark bladed sword coming at top speed toward my head.   
  
I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the end, but it never came. I opened my eyes to find that I had caught the blade between my quivering hands, a few centimeters from impacting on the middle of my forehead. My mouth hung open in surprise as I twisted the blade out of the beast's hands, catching the hilt in my own and sweeping the weapon in a large arc motion. I could feel warm liquid spray across my face and the front of my dress as the metal sliced through the beast's leathery skin. I watched in horror as his head rolled from his shoulders, covering the forest floor with its dark blood and settled on the ground, its eyes unseeing. Its body quickly followed hitting the ground with an audible thud.  
  
Gandalf stood watching me, a smile curving his lips.  
  
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" I screeched. My voice had raised a few octaves in my raging confusion as I pointed, wide eyed, at the bodies that littered the forest floor.  
  
"Seems to be the question of the week doesn't it Bryn?" He was still smiling.   
  
"Don't you dare laugh this off, Gandy. This is getting just too damn weird. What the hell were those things? I could have been killed."  
  
"You weren't even close to meeting death young one. You fought well." His smile fell. "They were orcs. Some of the foulest creatures to taint the beauty of Middle Earth with their evil ways." He lowered his head solemnly as if in mourning for the land.   
  
"Gees. Your not still pushing that 'other world' shit are you?"  
  
He stayed silent.  
  
As I stared upon the destruction before me I could feel my stomach starting to turn. Bending over, using a nearby tree for support, I began to retch and cough as I fought to stay calm. I never imagined anything like this would ever happen to me and it was the first time I had ever used my training in defense of my life. It was also the first time I had used it to kill.  
  
Even though I outwardly denied the fact that we were in another world, I was secretly starting to believe. Nothing felt remotely normal anymore, not even my own body.  
  
"How did I do that?" I panted after emptying the contents of my stomach. "It's just not possible."  
  
"What's not possible?"  
  
"Didn't you see? I like.... Matrix'ed out or something. I've never been able to do that before."  
  
Ignoring my question he grabbed hold of my shoulders and gently led me back to the wagon in my dazed state. "All will be explained once we reach Rivendell, my dear girl."  
  
I felt lost and exhausted as he helped me climb up and I immediately let myself collapse onto the wooden platform in the back. Gandalf resumed his driver's seat and urged the horse on as though the whole ordeal had never happened, lighting his pipe and continuing with his infuriating humming. But I no longer cared. I stared numbly up at the sky above, which was visible through the forests canopy. Even the colour of the sky was a different blue. It was softer, calmer in a way, instead of the rich blinding blue of the Australian sky. How could I have denied that I wasn't on earth anymore? It was all too different and full of things I didn't believe existed. Orcs? Elves?   
  
I was exhausted but I was shaken up. My heart was beating too fast to even think about sleeping. I was too overwhelmed to do anything other than lie there unblinking, staring up at the foreign sky as the wagon wheeled me towards the unknown.  
  
"Bryn. Bryn, girl, wake up." I was pulled out of my daze by an urgent hand poking me in the ribs. "We have arrived. Come, there is time for rest later."  
  
I groaned loudly and pulled myself into a sitting position. 'What next?' I thought 'Mud wrestling with a Yeti?' What I saw made my breath catch in my throat. A beautiful city stretched out into the forest, its buildings blending with the natural environment a though they were one and the same. Every single detail was finely crafted and the city itself seemed to be surrounded in a soft glow. They certainly knew how to dot their I's and cross their t's.  
  
'When did we get here? Did we pass through a gate? How could I not have noticed?'  
  
While gawping at the surrounding beauty, I noticed people around the wagon were regarding me with curious stares. Some even tried to smother their giggles with their hands as I wiped the drool from around my mouth with my one sleeve, which was not soiled with orc blood. Being slack jawed in awe could turn into a very messy business and I had a feeling that it wouldn't be the last time I'd be drooling all over myself.  
  
Gandalf, who was a distance away, beckoned me over with a wave of his hand to where he was standing accompanied by a tall regal looking man with long brown hair and wearing a long purple robe. I ambled over trying to look casual but really, it was taking all my strength not to turn on my heel and run screaming back into the forest.  
  
"Whose the guy in the dress?" I whispered to Gandalf behind my hand.  
  
"Bryn!" he snapped.  
  
"Do not worry yourself, Mithrandir. I'm sure she is under enough stress already with what has been revealed to her this day." The guy looked amused. "The journey from one world to another is never an easy one."  
  
"I thought it was supposed to be a secret.... Me being from another world I mean." I felt like a silly child who was asking unnecessary questions.  
  
"This is Lord Elrond, the ruler of Rivendell." Gandalf explained. Elrond nodded his head in acknowledgement of the introduction. "Your stay in Rivendell was organised in advance. It is necessary for Elrond to be aware of who you are. It will certainly explain a few things. I have a feeling that you are going to get yourself into trouble. You don't know this world, or its customs."  
  
There was a long silence as both men stared at me, waiting for a reaction. My eyes flicked between their two faces uneasily, until they came to rest on Lord Elrond's. I studied him closely. His skin was smooth and pale, yet a few wrinkles creased his forehead and eyes. It was hard to say how old he looked. He seemed to be young and old at the same time. His eyes held the wisdom of many years and he held himself with a kingly confidence. What amazed me the most were his ears. They curved neatly into a perfect point which neatly tucked away his long brown hair. Gandy wasn't kidding when he said elves.   
  
"Ah... erm" I stuttered, trying painfully to break their silent gazes. "Nice to meet you. Thanks for hooking me up with a room. I really appreciate it." There was that childish feeling again. Where had my education gone? I was speaking with the eloquence of a two year old.  
  
"It is my pleasure, Lady Bryn." He smiled warmly. I let out a sigh of relief. "I will have someone take your bags and escort you to your quarters in one of my guest bedrooms. We have other guests staying at present and I am sure they will enjoy your company."   
  
He clicked his fingers and a group of uniformed elves swarmed in on the wagon, grabbed the luggage and stood at attention like disciplined soldiers. I stifled a giggle as I imagined them in bellhop outfits, complete with bow ties and cheesy red hats but was stopped by another one of uncle Gandalf's warning glares. He could be a real killjoy sometimes.  
  
"Welcome to Rivendell, Lady Bryn." Elrond finished as he began walking away, Gandalf by his side.   
  
I was left alone, standing in the city square like a lost dog. 'Congratulations.' I thought to myself with scorn 'You have just nominated yourself as village idiot.'  
  
I was usually so comfortable with words and was known as a person who always had something to say. But here, it seemed that my usual intelligent conversation was reduced to simple-minded gibberish. I was off to a cracker of a start, and they say first impressions count.  
  
I had no choice but to follow the 'bellhops' as they led me off silently into the grounds of the palace. Everything was so perfect. I felt as though I had fallen into a dream. A rabbit hole. I wondered if the Mad Hatter was going to show up for tea any time soon.  
  
Walking through the corridors, I noticed that only one set of footsteps were audible. My footsteps. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I felt self conscious of my walk and made an effort to try and tread softer on the hard, marbled floors. But no matter how hard I tried my footsteps still echoed noisily. The silence with which the elves walked put me on edge. It was disturbing how they seemed to be able to defy the laws of nature. The ones I knew anyway. It was like the law of gravity didn't apply to them, and they walked just above the surface of the floor but never touching, never making a sound. 'Showy bastards'  
  
The group stopped at an ornately carved door and one of them swung it open gently, indicating for me to enter with a sweep of his hand. They handed me my bag as I walked past, their eyes following my movements carefully. Were elves always this scary?  
  
Once again I found myself slack jawed and drooling as my eyes swept the room. It was the most beautiful I had ever seen. All of the furniture and fittings were just as ornate and detailed as the rest of the city. A flowing canopy of white cloth haloed the large bed, which was pushed up against the right wall, and two large double doors led out onto a small balcony overlooking the glowing grounds of Rivendell. I had never stayed in a hotel before, but I would have bet that they didn't even come close to the beauty of that room. I dumped my bag on the floor next to the bed and turned back to the open door. The 'bellhop' elves still stood there staring at me blankly. That was it. There was a line between strange and rude and they had just leapt over it, big-time. Not wanting to get too close, I stuck my foot out slammed the door shut roughly with my boot. It slammed closed with a loud, satisfying bang. So much for trying to be quiet.  
  
I spent the next fifteen minutes exploring the room, but being so clean, there wasn't much to find. The small closet was empty as were the draws. I spent quite a few minutes staring at the domed ceiling, which was decorated with a large heaven-like scene of impossibly attractive elves and endless blue sky, but soon my neck cricked up and I was forced to find other forms entertainment. Plus, I really needed a bath.  
  
Getting desperate, I inched the door open and stuck my head through the available gap. I thought maybe if the scary 'bellhops' were still around I could milk one for information about the city, maybe find myself a Middle Earth version of a seedy nightclub. But looking around I found the corridors rather empty. Or not as empty as I thought.  
  
"Greetings, my lady." A deep voice sounded unexpectedly. I jumped so violently I nearly decapitated myself with the door.   
  
"Who's there?" I pulled my head in and swung the door wide. Stepping into the hall, I was met by a lone figure, shadowed in the dim light.   
  
"Its dangerous surprising people like that you know?" I announced hotly. "You nearly had my head off."  
  
"I'm sorry my lady. If I had known you were going to be such a danger to yourself, I would have made my presence known sooner so you could prepare." I couldn't see him but I could hear the smile that played on his lips.  
  
"Is it customary to stand in the dark and insult your guests?" I asked, determined not to let the witty stranger get the better of me.  
  
"Ah, but I am a guest here too. So you see my lady, we are on even par." His smug chuckle signaled another witticism was on its way. Before he could fire another one I cut in.  
  
"And who is this comedian I have the displeasure of meeting tonight?" My voice dripped with sarcasm.  
  
"I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thanduil and prince of the woodland realm of Eryn Lasgolan. And you are?"  
  
"Not interested. If I knew your introduction was going to take that long I would have brought popcorn or something." This guy was really getting on my nerves. Prince or no prince, I was not going to hold back what I thought of him.   
  
"So.... Princess." I drawled casually "You say we are on even par. Are you inviting me to insult you?"  
  
"If it doth please the lady, go ahead. I will rise to the challenge."  
  
"Very impressive of you." I said while squinting through the dark, trying to see what the bozo looked like, but all I could make out was the rough outline of a male body.  
  
As if on cue he stepped forward, the light revealing his tall lean frame and elven face. His chiseled features cast perfect shadows across the contours of his skin and his long platinum blonde hair shone in the dim light like the moons reflection off of the ocean. For a fraction of a second I went all gooey and felt that I was going to melt into his arms like some virginal airhead from a trashy romance novel, but the feeling passed quickly as I settled back into my initial hatred. Even if he did look like an elven underwear model, it didn't discount the fact that he was a jerk.  
  
Uncle Gandalf's words played over and over again through my head 'I expect you to offer them the same courtesy they will no doubt bestow upon you' he had said. Well that was all the prompting I needed. Legolas had quite literally invited me to insult him and Gandalf had unknowingly handed me permission on a silver platter. This was war.  
  
A smug smile came over his face in reply to my initial reaction to his appearance. 'I didn't make it that obvious did I?' I thought.  
  
"Doth the lady see something she likes hmm?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, something I never thought I would ever see an elf do. I stretched my neck up in an attempt to look taller and glowered up at him, my anger now fuming. This guy was insufferable.  
  
"I am most definitely NOT interested in your kinky personality. Or in William bloody Shakespeare, for that matter."  
  
"You have quite a temper on you girl. You had better be careful with yourself. I don't know who William bloody Shakespeare is but I'm sure he is a perfect gentleman." He still smiled smugly, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. The bastard was enjoying himself!  
  
"You're sick, you know that? Goodnight!" My patience for games at the end of its tether I pulled my arm back and launched my fist towards his face. It connected with a satisfying crack followed by a thud as Prince Legolas fell unconscious to the floor. I knew that I was going to get a tongue lashing from uncle Gandy for this one. He was right. I did get myself into trouble. I turned on my heel and strode down the hallway, leaving the princes unconscious form for someone else to clean up. My cheeks hot with fury and embarrassment I went searching for a bath.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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	3. Chapter3

Disclaimer: See previous chapters.  
  
A/N; I am very very very very very etc etc sorry for the time it has been since I last updated. I am finishing high school and had assignments and exams to do. I also broke two of my ribs at taekwondo and have been training to become a gym instructor with the injury (ouch bloody ouch) On the up side I won a young writers award for another piece I wrote (one reason I haven't updated this story) and have started writing a novel for publishing. Updates may be slow as I still have two more weeks of exams, but reviews will encourage faster updates, so review, review, review people. Make a girl happy in her time of hardship (sob, sob followed by loud sniffle). With no further babbling, welcome to chapter three!!  
  
Chapter Three  
  
After wondering blindly for a while, I came to the realisation that the palace proved to be more of a maze than I thought it would be. The passages seemed to fork, sweep and curve creating a labyrinth of hallways, gardens and beautiful, but empty rooms. I was beginning to tire and my stomach was growling in protest to the technicolour yawn that came upon me in the forest. The most disturbing was my body odour. You knew when you truly stank when your own smell began to bother you. My dress was torn from the fight and thick splatterings of dark blood were encrusted through the fabric and across my skin.   
  
Admitting to myself that I was lost, I moved dreamily through the halls, then sat for a while in the courtyard with its small pond, plants and classical columns and gave myself a lecture about being a nicer person - more open hearted, less temperamental and less critical. At least if I gave it a go I would have more of a chance of not being banished from Rivendell before the week was out. I had already managed to start a possible war with the wood elves. Even though I didn't like the prince, I still hoped that I didn't cause too much damage.  
  
"Lady Bryn." A female voice called "I have been looking all over for you." A tall elf dressed in servants garb jogged elegantly into the small garden, her hair flowing out behind her. "You were not in your room so I was sent to fetch you. I am Fianalyn. Your personal servant."  
  
"How did you know where to find me?" I asked.  
  
"I didn't. I have been searching every nook and cranny in the palace. It was just luck I suppose." She flashed a friendly smile that went right up to her cheerful gray eyes. "Now come. You must bathe and dress. Your presence is required on request of Lord Elrond. We mustn't keep him waiting."  
  
I knew what this was going to be about: a slightly broken elf by the name of Legolas Greenleaf. Time to face the consequences. Time to face the firing squad.  
  
She clasped my hand firmly and began dragging me back to my room, chattering adamantly all the way like an excited squirrel. She seemed a little flaky yet at the same time subtly displayed some form of knowledgeable intelligence. A far cry from the brainless teenyboppers from planet bubblegum found at home. I immediately took a liking to her.  
  
After a hot bath and a generous meal, Fianalyn once again directed me through the palace to a heavy set of double doors which loomed ominously over head.  
  
"I must leave you now." She whispered "I will be back for you later. May the stars shine brightly upon you this night my Lady."   
  
With a slight bow she slipped quietly back down the corridor. I needed more than a bunch of shiny stars to save me from the tongue lashing that was bound to come my way after passing through those doors. I needed a miracle. But considering I was in another world, I wasn't about to discount the possibility.  
  
Lifting my hand I paused before lightly rapping my sore knuckles on the thick surface.  
  
"Enter." Came the kingly reply.  
  
Pushing my way in, my eyes settled on the familiar form of the prince. He lounged loosely over one of the velvet high backed chairs, a cold cloth pressed to his newly acquired black eye. Meeting my gaze his face flushed red and he quickly averted his eyes. Gandalf and Elrond stood either side of him trying to smother their amused grins. I rolled my eyes.  
  
"All right. I admit it. I punched him." I blurted quickly. "So what's my punishment? Hot oil? The rack? Tapestry classes?"  
  
They were still trying to suppress their giggles and Legolas looked at each of them in turn giving them an accusing scowl.  
  
"I knew that this was your handy work." Gandalf stated, "The fact that he was sprawled on the floor outside of your room gave proof to my suspicions. I am not going to punish you. I think a warning will suffice as I have spoken to Legolas about the incident and it seems your actions weren't entirely unprovoked, were they Master Elf?"  
  
Gandalf turned to where the prince sat, his face now an emotionless mask. I smiled slyly at him as if to say 'I guess I won that round' and his eyes narrowed before an equally sly smile came to his lips.  
  
"Well Master Elf. Don't you have something to say?" Gandalf prompted.  
  
"Lady Bryn." Legolas began "I am sorry if my actions and words caused you ill feeling during our encounter in the halls this evening. I was uncivilized in my manner and I will make it my duty to make amends in the future." The 'make amends' part seemed to carry more to it than just a truce. This elf was no fool and I knew that I had chosen the wrong prince to banter with.  
  
"Thanks princess, for those kind words. I'm touched. I really am," I put my hand over my heart dramatically, the insincerity heavy in my voice.  
  
"And Bryn." Gandalf said. "Don't you have something to say to Master Elf?"  
  
"There is no way I am apologizing to him!" I pointed my finger like a dagger towards the smiling elf, " Is this totally necessary? I feel like I'm back in kindergarten and I really don't want to travel down that road again" Gandalf and Elrond looked at me pointedly and my discussion with myself in the courtyard played on my mind - more open hearted, less temperamental, less critical I had promised. I rolled my eyes again.   
  
"Fine. Okay, I'll do it." I turned to Legolas, his deep blue eyes locking with mine. For a moment my mind went blank and I stood there with my jaw flapping up and down, but no words would form. I could only imagine that I looked like a stunned gold fish. I took a deep breath to compose myself and gather my thoughts. "Okay Master Legolas..... Elf.. prince guy. I'm sorry that I insulted you, after you insulted me of course, and I apologise for knocking you out and leaving you in the hall like a cheap throw rug, despite the fact that you deserved it."  
  
His face broke into a smile. Not a sly or smug smile, but an amazing white grin that seemed to go all the way to his eyes. "I'm touched Lady Bryn. I truly am." He mocked. "You have such a way with words."  
  
"Now that we have settled that," Elrond cut in, severing my gaze with Legolas "As well as can be expected anyway. You may leave."   
  
I turned around intent on walking out the door, but was halted by an urgent voice "Not you Bryn," said uncle Gandalf "Just Legolas. We have other matters to discuss with you, young one."  
  
Finally I was going to get some answers. I had already wasted a lot of cussing on unanswered questions and my curiosity had been eating away at me ever since I had woken up in the wagon that morning.   
  
Legolas rose from his chair and began to leave. As he strode passed he smiled, giving me a wink with his good eye.   
  
"Take a seat" Elrond invited.  
  
I sat myself down in the red chair that Legolas had been sitting in moments ago and waited for the two men to start talking. They seemed to be communicating silently with each other, deciding where to start. While watching the muted conversation I noticed how warm the chair was. Legolas's body heat still lingered in the fabric and the thought of being that close to him was more than a little disturbing. I was fighting a battle with myself. I couldn't deny that I found him attractive, but I also couldn't help but find him absolutely infuriating. I squirmed uncomfortably in the seat.  
  
"Well, young Bryn. You certainly know how to cause a scene." Gandalf began "I want to take this time to explain a few things. Possibly answer a few of the questions that no doubt have been plaguing you."  
  
"Yeah. That would be peachy wouldn't it?" I couldn't help myself. I was still running on sarcasm. It seemed that whenever I got scared or anxious I tended to break out the whip and turn to antisocial behaviour. Even when it was entirely inappropriate to do so.   
  
"Yes, well," He cleared his throat. " I should start by saying that" He paused "I am not your true uncle. What I am is a link to your heritage."  
  
"This isn't going to turn into a 'This is Your Life' episode is it?" I actually found the information that Gandalf was not my true uncle quite easy to swallow. When he came to visit on occasions, I always saw him as a rather quirky character I couldn't possibly be related to. It was the whole beard and towering height thing. The family resemblance just wasn't there.   
  
  
  
"So who the hell are you then if not my uncle?"  
  
"I am an Istari wizard, my dear. I am known by many names, Gandalf being but one."  
  
"A wizard?" This was getting better and better. "So that is how we got here? You just pulled a Harry Potter, waved your cute little wand and bingo, were in another world?"  
  
Gandalf seemed to puff up his chest like a pigeon at my words. He let out a sigh of breath and began stroking the end of his beard in consternation. I seemed to have offended him somehow. "That is a gross over simplification of the process young Bryn, but I suppose you could put it like that."   
  
By this time my mind was awash with questions I wanted all answered at once, but they were coming so fast I didn't know which one to ask first. Thinking back on what had happened since arriving, the incident in the forest held my attention the most. How had I done that? I had always had reasonable strength and speed, and had never had any problems defeating opponents larger than myself, but never with the efficiency I had managed today.   
  
"What made me pull those funky moves against those orc thingy's? I mean.... You don't just wake up one morning finding you've turned into Buffy the orc slayer and not be a little perplexed by the whole deal. That was a little too freaky for my liking Gandy."  
  
Gandalf lowered himself slowly into a finely crafted chair, the wood creaking with his sudden weight. By his movements and the tired look on his face, I could tell that this was going to take some explaining "That is a more complex issue my dear, and one that ties in with the reason I brought you here to Middle Earth in the first place."  
  
"Oh, god. Please don't tell me I'm some chosen thing, destined to fight the forces of evil or what-not because I don't think I could handle that kind of responsibility."  
  
"If that were the case, young Bryn, I would be very worried indeed. The Valar certainly would have a sense of humour."  
  
"The who?" I asked. Gandalf threw an annoyed glance in my direction and Elrond looked on with his usual passive, kingly demeanor.   
  
Ignoring me, Gandalf continued.  
  
"You see, I knew your mother, she was an elf from Middle Earth, and quite a powerful one at that. That is why she left you. She was called back to this world and it was against her duties to return to earth."  
  
At Gandalfs words, all sarcasm was washed away, replaced by bitterness, anger and above all else loneliness. Why had she left? Were we not good enough for her?   
  
All my life I had imagined what growing up with a mother would have been like. I used to pretend she was still around and whisper questions to her while lying in bed at night. But there were no answers, only the silence of darkness and a lingering feeling of abandonment that still hung around me. It wasn't as though I was asking for a Brady bunch family, but there are just some things you can't talk to a male about, even if he is your father. The news that she had disappeared into another dimension and had her reasons for leaving did not dispel the anger and sense of loss that I was feeling. I quickly blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill from my eyes and turned my attention back to Gandalf, who was regarding me with a saddened expression. There was no way I was going to let myself cry over her. Not now, not ever. I don't have a mother.  
  
"Wait" I blurted "does that mean I'm an elf too?"  
  
"No, not exactly. You do carry elven blood, though you do not possess the immortal life of the elves. What you do have is elven power inherited from your mother, however it seems to have manifested itself in an unusual manner. Your physical capabilities are greatly enhanced and always have been, but here the power is stronger, because Middle Earth is the place of its origin."  
  
"Does this mean that all the time I have been winning martial arts tournaments it is because of this power?" Gandalf nodded his head "I'm a bloody cheat."  
  
"You did not cheat. You just.... had a slight natural advantage."   
  
"Well it's not all that natural in my world."  
  
Gandalfs reasoning wasn't exactly comforting. I was a cheat in my world and all of the trophies I had won amounted to nothing. Although the idea of enhanced abilities wasn't all that bad.  
  
"Exactly how much stronger is my power in Middle Earth, it's 'place of origin'?" I enquired, a smile once again forming on my lips.  
  
Gandalf shrugged his shoulders and looked to Elrond for some aid in answering my question but it seemed that he did not have an answer either. "We have no way of knowing lady Bryn" Elrond stated "That you will have to discover for yourself."   
  
"More importantly is why I brought you here," Gandalf continued. "Having inherited elven power your father thought it necessary to introduce you to your blood heritage, being the elves of Middle Earth."  
  
"That's it? You brought me here because of some heritage I have little in common with?"  
  
Gandalf smacked his lips together in thought and grunted something unintelligible before responding with a weak and breathy 'yes'.  
  
"Then why do I have to keep the other world thing a secret if it is not a big deal?"  
  
His eyes seemed to darken then and I had no way of knowing the full import of my words. Elrond's face was also marred with the dark concern mirrored on Gandalf's face. After what seemed a decade Gandalf seemed to shake himself of his worry, once again settling into his light airy wisdom.  
  
"Do not concern yourself with such matters dear girl." His eyes caught and held mine meaningfully, my curiosity and fear roused to attention. "Just make sure it stays a secret."  
  
"O..o..kay." I stuttered under his gaze.  
  
"While you are here and have the opportunity," Gandy continued "take advantage of the warrior training offered to you. I keep my promises and this is no exception. You will be trained by the best. However many are not accustomed to seeing women in battle, so don't get hot headed. The feminist movement has not occurred in this realm and I do not want to hear stories of you gathering she-elves to burn their under garments in protest. Am I clear?"   
  
"Oh, dead clear Gandy." I had to hold back the burst of laughter that was straining for release at the back of my throat. At home I was known as somewhat of a feminist, but it was more about self-respect and most importantly, respect in a dojang. I had no intention of turning into Germaine Greer at all and harboured absolutely no desire to do so. "No need for the dramatics, Gandy. I will be discreet in my vengeful tactics if a chauvinist gets in my way."   
  
I winked suggestively just to annoy him and it seemed my efforts had not gone to waste. He sat stiffly in his chair, the lines of his face distorted at odd angles. It was unsettling that he would take my joking seriously. He had been around all through my childhood and was well aware of my sarcastic and cynical bantering. He had always known when to take me seriously and when to dismiss my comments, but it seemed that for some reason he had his wires crossed. I was savvy enough to join the dots and conclude that his uneasiness had something to do with my being from another world and the reason that it must be kept secret.  
  
"I was joking" I assured. "I will be on my best behaviour."  
  
"Be ready for training tomorrow morn. Someone will come to fetch you." Elrond stated. "You may now leave."   
  
That was the cue I had been waiting for. According to my watch, which I will have to get rid of, it was about two in the morning and I was tired of playing 'fill in the blanks' with Gandalf. It was time for a well-earned nap. I smothered a yawn with my hand as I rose from my chair swiftly and headed straight towards the door. I waved to both uncle Gandalf and Elrond, blurting a quick goodnight before disappearing down the halls. Now, if I could only find my room. 


	4. Chapter4

Chapter 4  
  
Just as the sun was rising I rolled out of bed wearing a sleep-creased T-shirt, and a pair of faded cotton boxers with a large lipstick print kiss stitched onto the left buttock. After steadying myself I launched myself across the room in the general direction of my bags, trusting my natural sense of direction to guide me safely to my destination without any accidents with the furniture. I was used to getting up early for training but had to trust my autopilot to get me ready. I rifled through my bag with sleep-squinched eyes, omitting a whoop of success as I produced my disc-man and selected a CD from the shiny black album. Music always pumped me up before training. It inspired me to put on my game face and 'suck it up' for the physical tortures ahead, and that morning I trusted the soothing tones of Nirvana to do the job.  
  
Slipping the headphones over my ears I began my morning ritual of jumping on the bed like a maniac, eyes closed and head thrown back with hair flying in all manner of directions. Singing along, albeit loudly and out of tune, I continued my warm up until I caught something in the edge of my vision. My eyes met with a pair of clear and amused blue ones and I yelped in surprise as I attempted to jump off the opposite side of the bed only to have my feet tangle in the sheets, sending me toppling in an ungraceful manner to the floor. Only the floor never came. I found myself caught in a warm embrace, arms wrapped around my torso steadying my body from its journey to the floor and up-righting me to my feet. Just as I was thinking how wonderful it felt, I recoiled sharply as I realized whose embrace it was. I narrowed my eyes as I felt my anger rise and I roughly pushed him away putting a comfortable distance between our bodies.  
  
"Legolas! What in the bloody hell are you doing in my room?" I shouted hotly. "Give a girl some privacy would ya'!"  
  
  
  
Legolas smiled dangerously. That smile of his was a potential weapon, rendering women powerless to his will. I wrinkled my nose at my own perverted thoughts and crossed my arms across my chest in defiance, trying to shake myself of the effect he was having on me.  
  
"I knew you were a danger to yourself, Lady Bryn. You were lucky I was here to rescue you."  
  
"You were the one who caused the accident in the first place you dolt!"  
  
"I cannot be blamed for your clumsiness." He said cheekily. It annoyed me to no end that he knew exactly which buttons to press to get a rise out of me, and it was incredibly frustrating that I found myself rising to the bait every single time. "What exactly were you doing? And what is that?" he asked.  
  
He pointed a finger towards where I had my disc man clutched between my fingers, my knuckles a ghastly shade of white from the death grip I had on it. I nervously shuffled my feet, trying to devise a way of dismissing the otherworldly device in a way that would not rouse suspicion.   
  
"I was just mucking around. You know......the usual." I smiled weakly "And... errrr....This is a..... hair...fixing...thingy." Way to go Bryn, I thought with scorn. There was no way I was going to be recruited for the CIA any time soon, that was for sure.   
  
"Well, it's not working" He stated as he regarded my wind swept appearance. It was true. I looked as though I had been dragged through a hedge backwards before a family of birds decided to build a nest on my head. " Unless that is how the ladies wear their hair in your village." He added thoughtfully.  
  
I glowered up at him. "Kiss my ass" I said nastily, and strode across the room to shove my disc man back in my bag.  
  
"It looks like somebody already did," he called after me. "Love the shorts."  
  
"Shove off Vulcan boy."  
  
"I can't. I am here as your trainer and it is my duty to make sure that Gandalf's promise to you is kept."  
  
"Oh you have got to be shittin' me"  
  
"I shit you not, my lady." He quipped, "Get dressed."  
  
"I grabbed my pack and skulked across the room and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. This was going to be a long day.  
  
  
  
Walking out to the training field I took the opportunity to study the blonde elf I would have to endure for the day. He exuded confidence and grace and also a restlessness that I understood all too well. I couldn't decide whether I liked or despised the prospect that I could have something in common with this prince who I despised, but at the same felt drawn to. Staring up at him I found that my pulse began to race and my palms began to become sweaty. I had to get away from him. Why was I acting like this? Am I allergic to him or something? I was straining to find an explanation for these strange physical ailments I developed whenever I was around him and the allergy theory was all I could come up with. The last thing I wanted was a relationship. I had given up on dating, getting dressed up and wondering whether or not I smelt nice. It was all far too stressful. It was only a temporary arrangement, I reminded myself, trying to calm my heartbeat.  
  
"Why do you stare at me so?" He asked, frightening me out of my reverie.  
  
"I was just wondering," I started slyly trying to cover up the real reason for my wandering eyes "Why you have been allocated to be my trainer when Gandalf specifically promised the best Middle Earth has to offer."  
  
"I am the best on offer."  
  
"Gee, and he's modest too."  
  
"I am merely being realistic. I have proven myself as a warrior and have earned my reputation as the best. I have risked my life for noble causes and have even almost faced death on several occasions."  
  
"Almost? That's a relief."  
  
"I do not jest, Lady Bryn. I have trained most of my years and have developed a deep connection with my weapons."  
  
"Oh dear. Not painful, I hope?"  
  
He cast a stern gaze down on me and a sudden rush of guilt entered my body for my nastiness, but I couldn't help it. It was my defense barrier and it stopped me from getting too close, however, this time I knew I had gone too far. His eyes had turned a stormy shade of blue that had the effect of a cold bucket of water dumped over my head. I diverted my gaze to my feet and continued to walk, not wanting to drown in his piercing gaze.  
  
"I'm sorry." I mumbled.  
  
The rest of the walk passed silently, the only sounds that of distant birds and the crunch of leaves under my boots.   
  
As we approached the field a tall, lanky brunette elf came bounding towards us, bow in hand and an infectious smile plastered on his face.  
  
"Legolas mellonamin," he greeted, giving him a friendly slap on the back "It has been too long. And who is this lovely lady you have with you?"  
  
"This is Lady Bryn, Gandalf's niece." Legolas announced, "I am to be her trainer. And this," He indicated the dark haired elf to me "is Davinion, the best archer in Rivendell."  
  
"He jests lady for he is the true master of the bow. He is far too modest."  
  
"Yeah. I had a taste of his modesty on the way over." I said dryly.  
  
Davinion smiled at me knowingly and threw his arm around my shoulders. "Come, Bryn. I will help train you."   
  
I took a liking to Davinion straight away. His cheerfulness and infectious personality made him an elf that was very easy to get along with. He also seemed to have a sobering effect on Legolas who had not stopped smiling since Davinion joined us. The fact that we were on a first name basis helped as well. None of that 'Lady' nonsense that seemed to be tossed around, annoying in its formality.  
  
"What is that?" Davinion enquired as I drew my katana.   
  
"It's a sword."  
  
"Tis' blunt." He ran his hand over its smooth edge in disapproval.  
  
"Of course. It is a training sword. I don't think my instructor at home would have been happy if his students were running around severing each others limbs."  
  
"You must have a proper weapon."   
  
"Why? We are only training. What if someone gets hurt?"  
  
"Orc's and Uruk Hai will not be using blunt weapons and neither will you."  
  
"Davinion is right," Legolas interjected "You must have faith in yourself and also in us not to injure you."  
  
"It's not me I'm worried about." I replied cockily.  
  
Davionion broke into a fit of melodious laughter while Legolas merely smiled in amusement.  
  
"I like you already, Bryn my girl." Davinion managed through his chuckles. "We will be great friends, I am sure. I shall fetch you a sword."  
  
"Thanks, Dave." I called after him as he made his way back to the palace grounds, leaving Legolas and I alone in the field.  
  
"So," I said, turning towards Legolas' lean form "What shall we do until dangly Dave comes back?"  
  
A mischievous sparkle twinkled in his eyes as he regarded me pensively. It was almost possible to hear the nuts, bolts and turbines churning in his brain as he devised a plan. If his plan included making me nervous he was most definitely successful in that part.  
  
"If you are so confidant in your abilities," He said "Why don't you show me how good you are with a little one-on-one? No weapons, just wits."  
  
As if he knew my answer, he dropped himself into a fighting stance, waiting for me to do the same.  
  
"Ok," I replied "But don't say I didn't warn you.  
  
I really wasn't as confident as I sounded however I always had a knack for putting my foot in my mouth. I only opened my mouth wide enough to change feet. I had no way of knowing Legolas' abilities and I didn't even know the extent of my own. I just hoped they were 'enhanced' enough to hold my own against an elf. This warrior prince in particular.  
  
Settling into my own defensive stance, our eyes locked together in a silent battle, we waited to see who was going to make the first move. The first strike in a battle was always the most stressful. It can be the deciding factor of who owns the fight, whether or not you're fighting your own fight or theirs. With so much uncertainty I was reluctant to be that person, however the decision was made for me as Legolas launched himself towards me, his body tucked into a flying side kick position. I side stepped his attack easily and moved to counteract with some hand strikes. We both fell into a balletic rhythm of punching, blocking and kicking, moving with each other's bodies and anticipating the others movements. I was becoming more and more confident with my abilities and the pace of the fight began to quicken accordingly, our movements becoming less and less predictable. Seeing an opening through his hands I spun quickly, using the full force of my body and my momentum to execute a back kick to his stomach. The force sent his hurtling backwards into a nearby bush where he landed with a pained grunt followed by a long groan.  
  
"Oh god. Legolas I am so sorry," I appologised as I rushed to his side "I didn't mean to kick you so hard. I don't know my own strength."  
  
He groaned again and coughed loudly.  
  
"That I did not expect. You are good, Bryn. Perhaps a little too good." He said somewhat suspiciously.  
  
Before I had time to react he flipped back onto his feet, catching me by surprise as he grappled me to the ground. I could feel my ankle twist painfully as I went down.  
  
"Ow" I yelped. I rubbed my ankle gently as it began to swell to an unnatural size. Legolas crouched beside me, his expression soft and apologetic an expression I had never seen on his fair features.  
  
"Perhaps it is my turn to appologise." He whispered. "Can you walk?"  
  
I attempted to stand up but the pressure on my foot sent a shot of pain up through my leg causing me to slump back to the grass."  
  
"We will just have to wait for Davinion to return from...." He trailed off and a look of concentration creased his face as he cocked an ear towards the forest.   
  
Looking in that direction my eyes fell upon a large group of hideous creatures wielding scimitars and rotting snarls. "Uruk Hai" Legolas announced in disgust.  
  
"Retrieve the wench," Their leader said as he threw his arm forward in a signal to attack "Get her."  
  
At his orders the group began their advance. 


	5. Chapter5

Just a short chapter this time. The action and adventure is on its way soon too. Also a little drama and angst. I hoped that I wouldn't have to resort to begging but please please please please review! My story isn't that bad is it? I am writing this when I am supposed to be studying. At least make it worth my while.* Gets on knees and offers generous bribe.*  
  
Also, I have made several references to various books and films throughout this story so if you recognize anything, I don't own it.  
  
I would also like to thank Oremis, Draekon, Undrentia and Fernvigiel who reviewed all those months ago and who I should have thanked then but I'm doing it now. Thanks guys!   
  
Chapter 5  
  
Legolas and I looked at each other knowing that he could not take on the group all on his own. He seemed to come to a decision as he strode over purposely, picked me up from the ground, threw me over his shoulder and began to run. 'Well that was unexpected' I thought. Dangling over someone's shoulder warranted a certain amount of turbulence and all I could do to stabilize myself was grasp the hem of his tunic.  
  
I glanced up to find that the Uruk Hai were on our trail and in hot pursuit. I knew that elves were swift runners, but with my cumbersome weight, Legolas' movements were slowed and less fluid.  
  
"Can't you pick up the pace a little?" I shouted up to him "The blood is rushing to my head, and they are gaining on us. Giddy up."   
  
I gave him a few encouraging slaps on the bottom in the good old jockey style. His reply was an irritated growl.  
  
"You're not exactly the lightest maiden in Middle Earth you know!" He forced through clenched teeth.  
  
"I resent that. That is a rather disturbing thing to say considering how close my rear end is to your face. I hope you're not trying to imply anything. I know my bum isn't very aerodynamic, but you had better speed up, princess."  
  
The creatures were only a few feet behind us now. I started to wonder whether Legolas had put me in this position to act as a sort of human shield for himself. If we were attacked from behind I was definitely the one who was going to take the most collateral damage. As if to test my theory, one of the Uruks lunged a foul hand toward me in an attempt to pull me from Legolas's shoulders. I narrowly avoided his clasping black fingers and swatted his arm away. Before he could lunge again, the elf began to move faster, leaving the Uruks lagging behind and soon after we passed into the safety of the boarders of Rivendell. Legolas did not stop running until we reached the lake.   
  
Coming to a stop on its banks Legolas panted lightly as he rolled me off of his shoulder and deposited me on the ground in an unceremonious heap. He gracefully lowered himself to the ground beside me resting his arms on his knees.  
  
"Next time, you get to carry me." He said between breaths.  
  
"I thought elves were never supposed to get tired."  
  
"Running by myself is one thing, sprinting with the weight of another on my back is quite another."  
  
He stretched himself out on the grass, resting his head in his clasped hands. By this time he was breathing normally and the flushed cheeks he sported moments before had paled back to a smooth porcelain white.  
  
"You're not even sweating." I stated accusingly "Have you not glands?"  
  
"Glands?"  
  
"Never mind. You elves are so perfect it makes my teeth ache."  
  
He just chuckled under his breath. "You are a most peculiar being aren't you? From where do you hail? Gandalf nor Elrond ever mentioned it."  
  
I began to silently curse Gandy for not setting me up with some kind of alibi for these kinds of emergencies, but I couldn't blame him entirely, as I had never given it much thought either. I would just have to reapply the method I used to get through high school; namely make it up as I go along and try to sound intelligent. My motto through those years of academic torture was that it is not about knowing what you are talking about, but sounding like you know what you are talking about. It really is no wonder that I was the classic example of an under achiever. Since I knew little of the geography of Middle Earth, I randomly selected a direction and hoped I was pointing to a decent nick of the woods.  
  
"Umm.." I mused "From the... south east."  
  
"From the Gladden Fields?"  
  
"Further."  
  
"Dol Guldur?"  
  
"Err...further."  
  
"The Brown Lands?"  
  
"Still further." I was trying to make it as far away as possible in hope that he himself had never been there. That way I could lie through my teeth without being caught out.  
  
"From Dagorland?"  
  
"A little further."  
  
His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. " Are you implying that you are from Mordor?"  
  
"Ahhh...Ummm.." I was really winging it now. "Yeah that's the place. Lovely little area. Have you been there?"  
  
"Yes.. I have actually. But it wasn't quite so lovely when I was there."  
  
I inwardly cringed at his words. I could tell from the confused and troubled look on his face that I had definitely chosen the wrong direction to weave my lies together with. I made a mental note to myself about doing some research about this place so that I could at least be an educated liar, instead of the babbling idiot I was in my cultural ineptitude.   
  
With that, we fell into a comfortable silence as we left each other to enjoy the beauty of the gardens and the warmth of the afternoon sun.  
  
After a while of companionable daydreaming, Legolas rose from his seat on the grass and promptly began to remove his tunic and shirts.  
  
"What are you doing?" I asked.  
  
"Going for a swim," he stated simply "Aren't you going to join me? The cold water will help your injury."  
  
"I left my togs back in my room."  
  
"Your what?" his voice muffled by his shirt as he slipped it over his head.  
  
"My swim suit."  
  
"You don't need it."  
  
"I don't need it? Then what am I going to..." my voice trailed off as realization dawned on me. "You're going to swim in your birthday suit? I thought that this was a conservative culture."  
  
"It is natural. Is nudity a taboo to you?"  
  
"When you're talking about skinny dipping with a naked elf prince I have known for less than forty eight hours, then yes, it is. I ain't sticking around for this show. Besides, those Uruk thingy's were after ME and I want to know why. I'm going to find Gandalf."  
  
"Suit yourself." He smirked as he continued to undo his trousers.  
  
Before he could disrobe any further I turned to hide the deep blush that had darkened my cheeks and began the slow hobble back to the palace, trying to dispel the images of a naked Legolas from my mind. I knew he was doing it to get to me, stir me up, and it was working. I had not had much experience with guys in the past. I had been too busy fighting them to even think about kissing them. Any other girl would have kept her cool and acted non-chalet and uber casual. I seized up, turned into a tomato and retreated.   
  
It wasn't that I would have minded to see Legolas naked, but considering the nature of our current relationship I doubt that if I had stayed, I would ever have been able to look him in the eye again. Without laughing hysterically in embarrassment that is. Legolas had won himself a point in the war of wits, a point that I was determined to steal back. 


	6. Chapter6 Interlude 1

Interlude  
  
"I do feel that there is something rather odd about Lady Bryn, Davariel," Legolas mused as he removed his cloak and placed it on a nearby stand.  
  
Davariel raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner. He had not spent enough time with her to adequately make such judgments, but Legolas' opinions were not something he often took lightly so he believed that the observation deserved some merit.  
  
"How so, my friend?" He replied as he sank himself into a plush leather chair. "In the short time I spent with her I found nothing particularly disagreeable. Strange looking for a human though."  
  
"There is something about her manner that is puzzling me most."  
  
"What about your own manner, my friend," He smirked. "Perhaps it is your taunting that makes her act so. You do love to provoke her. You are quite devious in your antics and it has been long since I have seen you act in such a manner."  
  
Legolas smirked as memories of his mischievous days as a young elf, cunning in his games, filled his memory. But the smile soon fell as the present invaded his thoughts, reminding him of the strange mystery that plagues him in the form of a young woman named Bryn.  
  
"I only act as such to play her at her own game. I see it as the only way to get her to trip herself up, to reveal something that perhaps she didn't originally intend. It was only this afternoon that she insisted that she hailed from Mordor! And those Uruk Hai that attacked us were particularly interested in her."  
  
Davariel's thick eyebrows shot up to the top of his forehead in surprise. He sat with his head perched in his palm, observing the blonde prince curiously. Legolas had always been one for wanting to solve the mysteries of the world, perhaps from that stemmed his love of travel, but this particular mystery had him completely captivated. His face was clouded in concentration and his eyes glazed as he tried to fit together the meagre pieces of the puzzle at his disposal.  
  
"Did she?" Davariel asked. "That is odd."  
  
From the moment Legolas had met Bryn in the hall he knew that there was something strange about her. Her unusual mannerisms, Her footwear, then there was her extraordinary speed and strength in battle. Even the way she moved was alien to him. And who is William Bloody Shakespeare?   
  
Having been out for a night of, what Wilthov had dubbed, 'larks and frivolity', Legolas had returned to the guest room in a riled up state due to the elven wine he had had and also the loud company which he had drank it. He was merely trying to have a little fun with her that night they had met, but it seemed that she was a little more temperamental than he had first anticipated. It was this first encounter that had started the war of wits between them. He thought that he could use this war as a way of learning more about her. Ruffle her feathers and get her flustered and careless, revealing more pieces of this strange puzzle. He knew that this was not such a good way to treat a lady, but it was his only tool. No one was willing to reveal anything, especially Gandalf and Elrond, and extreme circumstances called for more cunning measures.  
  
"I will get to the bottom of this, Davinion." Legolas vowed. "I swear it on my oath as an elf."  
  
"Are you sure that there is something to get to the bottom of sire?"  
  
"Things are a little too strange for there not to be. I will find it, Davinion. I will find it." 


End file.
